Now & Then
by OhioSummer
Summary: When tragedy strikes, Nick remembers what things used to be like... all while trying to pick up the many pieces of the mess of the present.  NILEY


**(Late October)**

My little car chugged down the empty streets of my little town. The sky was a blank slate, the nearby city lights deprived it any twinkling of stars, and the moon was hidden beneath the clouds. It was an ugly night, it that sense. I rolled the windows down, but the air was thick and smelled like rain. Rain was ugly, too.

It didn't used to be ugly. It wasn't ugly the night when I first kissed her, our clothes wet and sticky, our hair drenched and beautifully tangled. It was perfect then; everything was. Now, I didn't even know what perfect was. All I knew was the heavy stress of a mangled relationship that once meant something to both of people in it. I knew the anxiety of dialing my girlfriend's number and wondering if she'd pickup- wondering who she's with, what she's doing, where the she is, and wondering if I'd ever really find out.

I know what it's like to be hated by the person who you thought meant the most to you, and I know what it's like to hate them back. I know what it's like to kiss someone and not feel a thing. I know what it's like to look back on everything and wonder where it all went wrong.

I ran my head through the dark mound of curls atop my head. Miley used to do that, back when she was mine. I realized she would never do it again. Now she was nothing to me. We were strangers. We were over for good this time. Well, at least that was what she had told me back at the party just a few minutes ago. Of course her words were slurred, and she was drunk, like usual. It seemed like she was never sober outside of school anymore. I hated it. Fucking hated it. I told her that, and then stormed out of the house and told her to drive her goddamn self home.

Then I left. And there I was, chugging along it my car, replaying it all in my head.

I felt uneasy thinking about it. I pressed harder on the gas, speeding up in an effort to release my built up anxiety. I bit my lip, and then slowed down. Exhale.

Why had I left her there? She was too drunk to walk, let alone to drive. That was when it hit me- she was going to kill herself. And it would be my fault for walking out on her in the first place. My heart felt like it was going to explode under my chest. I had to go back. I hated her, I thought, but I didn't want her to die.

I pulled into the next driveway I saw. It took a while to find one because we live in the middle of nowhere and the houses seem like they're miles apart, but that's not important. I started the route back toward the party, and immedietly tried to figure out why I trying to help her at all. She was probably hooking up with some other guy at that very moment, I thought. I imagined his greasy hands on her body. Her lips on his. It was disgusting. She was disgusting. But I didn't want her to die, did I?

It started to sprinkle, raindrops dotting my windshield. I turned on my wipers, and they went back and forth. Tick tock, tick tock. Time went by slowly as the images of Miley flashed through my head. First an image of her drunkenly yelling, then an image of her drunkenly starting her car, an image of her snuggled up to some prick of a guy, and then an image of her swerving down the roads and slamming into another car. It started raining harder.

Up ahead a set of headlights that just seemed to appear out of nowhere. I slowed down, relieved that I'd noticed before I'd gotten too dangerously close. But that sense of relief was soon replaced with confusion. Why did it seem like the lights were getting closer? Were they getting closer? Why the hell was someone driving in the wrong lane? It was hard to tell in the rain.

I squinted and looked harder. It was a black Mercedes that reminded me of Miley's. It seemed to get closer, and I knew I needed to swerve. I looked off to my left, a ditch that would probably flip my car over. To my right another car was speeding down the road. I looked ahead one last time and caught a glimpse of the driver.

She was pretty.

She had brown, beautiful, wavy hair.

She was drunk.

She was Miley.

I gripped the steering wheel, squeezed my eyes shut, and prepared for the crash.

**Hey ****guys! ****To ****all ****two ****of ****you ****who ****remember ****me, ****thanks ****for ****sticking ****around. ****I****'****m ****going ****to ****try ****this ****fanfiction ****thing ****again. ****This ****chapter ****is ****short, ****but ****the ****rest ****will ****be ****longer. ****I****'****m ****not ****sure ****what ****else ****to ****write, ****so ****just ****review ****if ****you ****liked ****it!**


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